


Lost & Found

by Anthemyst



Series: Generations Past and Future - Companion Fics [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, about chloe losing her mom and then losing adrien's mom too, look i just have a lot of feelings, so now you have to have those feelings as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthemyst/pseuds/Anthemyst
Summary: Chloé Bourgeois lost her mother when she was young; it was something she had in common with Adele Agreste, the warm and lively woman who seemed to understand Chloé in a way no other adult did, and who helped ease that loss.A few years later, it was something Chloé had in common with Adrien Agreste.





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Like everything else in this series, this is a spin-off of [Generations Past & Future](http://archiveofourown.org/series/510700). Since this fic is from Chloé's perspective, you don't actually need to read those stories to understand what's going on here, but if you're curious about what actually happens to Adele, it's all in the main series.

When Chloé was ten, her mother died. It was the first time in Chloé’s life that a tantrum didn’t fix anything.

Chloé made it about two hours into the wake. Two hours of accepting condolences from all her father’s biggest donors, of thanking them for coming, of listening to how _sorry_ everyone was, over and over and over again. Two hours of watching her father handle each and every one of those donors effortlessly, as though his wife wasn’t lying all stiff and shut up in a heavy box less than two meters away.

Chloé had just about made up her mind to open her mouth and scream, just for the satisfaction of knocking the stupid looks off everyone’s faces, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Agreste said, before leaning down conspiratorially. “You seem like you need a break from all this,” she whispered. “Follow me, I’ll get you out of here.”

Confused, Chloé followed the woman out of the main parlor, then through a doorway marked “Employees Only” and down a narrow hallway.

Chloé had never really known what to make of Adrien’s mother. She was beautiful, and warm, and kind, and she seemed to genuinely like Chloé whereas most adults simply tolerated her.

She was very nervous-paranoid, even-when it came to her son. She didn’t let him go to school. He didn’t have any other friends. She’d come to pick him up from visiting Chloé at the hotel once, when they were in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek and it was Adrien’s turn to hide. She’d bitten off about half of her perfectly manicured nails in the ten short minutes it had taken to find her son.

But she was also stubborn and direct. If she wasn’t worrying about Adrien, she was totally fearless. She would argue openly with Adrien’s father when she disagreed with him instead of dancing around the issue and undermining it, the way most rich wives that Chloé knew did.

And apparently, she was _very_ good at sneaking around.

Chloé stuck close behind Mrs. Agreste as she hurried down hallways and ducked around corners, expertly avoiding the parlor staff before Chloé could even hear them coming. Within about five minutes, Mrs. Agreste had gotten Chloé into the back kitchen, totally unseen. Now they were both sitting on the floor behind a table in the corner, making their way through a plate of hors d'oeuvres that Mrs. Agreste had grabbed off a countertop on their way.

“Why?” Chloé asked, after finishing off her third mini quiche. “Why’d we sneak back here?”

Mrs. Agreste shrugged. “It’s better than screaming, isn’t it?” she said, biting into her own quiche. Chloé’s face fell.

“Was I that obvious?” she asked, and Mrs. Agreste’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, dear, not at all,” she said, quickly swallowing the hors d'oeuvre. “You were perfect, really.” Chloé narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I’m sure no one else could tell, honest. I just… remembered how I felt at my mother’s funeral, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Chloé said, slightly mollified.

“I don’t think I made it as long as you did, actually,” Mrs. Agreste continued, “before shouting something rude at my uncle and storming off. They ought to put a time limit on these things, you know? For the kids, at least.”

Chloé nodded. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen.” Mrs. Agreste sighed. “I’m sorry you didn’t get as much time with your mother as I did with mine.”

“Thanks,” Chloé mumbled. They sat in a not-uncomfortable silence for about half an hour, listening to the distant chatter of the wake as they finished off the rest of the plate. Finally, Chloé sighed. “I guess I can stand to go back,” she said.

Mrs. Agreste nodded, then patted the girl’s arm. “I know nobody can replace your mother,” she said, “but if there’s ever anything you need, anything you want to talk about, anything you would have gone to your mother for… well, you can come to me for anything like that if you want to, okay?”

Chloé nodded, then leaned over and hugged the woman. “I will,” she whispered, blinking back tears.

 

* * *

 

 

When Chloé was twelve, her friends started to notice Adrien Agreste. Most of them were the daughters of rich campaign donors, girls who knew of the Agrestes by reputation as both incredibly wealthy and incredibly reclusive, and who were fascinated that Chloé actually had a personal relationship with their son.

“He’s so _cute_ ,” they would gush. “You should have him over more, when we’re here,” they’d giggle. At first it was annoying, but very quickly Chloé found she actually liked the inexplicable popularity boost she was getting.

“Are you going to marry him?” they started asking.

“I don’t know,” Chloé would say. “I guess. I mean, his parents don’t let him hang out with anybody else, so they’re probably counting on it.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” one of them would say in response, “it’s like an arranged marriage or something, like you’re royalty. It’s so _romantic_.” Privately, Chloé thought a marriage arranged by André Bourgeois and Gabriel Agreste sounded like the least possible romantic thing imaginable, but she went along with it. Before she knew it, she was inventing wild details for her future marriage, and the more she invented the more her friends ate it up. Chloé adored the way it felt, being the center of that kind of attention.

After a few months, however, it occurred to Chloé that she didn’t actually want to marry Adrien at all. She enjoyed talking about the wedding with her friends, she enjoyed planning it, she especially enjoyed looking through the bridal magazines, at all the pictures of gorgeous, happy brides. Chloé wanted everyone to look at her the way people looked at those brides. But she didn’t want to walk down an aisle if Adrien was the person waiting for her at the end of it. She didn’t want to vow to love him in sickness and in health, and the thought of “You may now kiss the bride”, which set her friends’ hearts racing, did nothing at all for Chloé.

When she’d first told her friends that Adrien’s parents expected them to marry, she hadn’t actually believed it a bit. But now, after months of hearing them insist she must be right, Chloé was beginning to get nervous. She was beginning to worry that there _were_ expectations, arrangements she didn’t know about. And she was beginning to worry about how different she felt from the rest of the girls she knew. After all, Adrien was perfect on paper, and she _did_ love him, just… not like that. Chloé wasn’t sure what it meant, that she couldn’t feel the way she was supposed to about Adrien, after months of trying.

Chloé wished she could have talked to her mother about it.

She hadn’t forgotten Mrs. Agreste’s offer, to come to her with anything she would have gone to her mother for. They’d grown a little closer over the past two years, and Chloé had taken Mrs. Agreste up on that offer on more than one occasion. But this was about her _son_. What if she was disappointed? What if she stopped liking Chloé, when Chloé told her how she felt about Adrien? Chloé agonized about it internally for weeks, and something of it must have shown on her face because more than once Mrs. Agreste looked at her, eyes full of concern, and asked her if she was okay, if there wasn’t anything she wanted to talk about. Chloé said no every time, but her resolve was weakening.

Chloé had finally made up her mind to say something-she wasn’t sure what, exactly, but something-when Mrs. Agreste went missing.

 

* * *

 

When Chloé was fourteen, she attended the funeral of the woman who’d promised to stand in for her mother.

“I’m so sorry,” Chloé said, hating the words as soon as they left her mouth. She couldn’t help but remember how little they’d meant to her to hear, four years ago. Adrien gave her a polite smile.

“Thanks, Chloé,” he said. And then he was looking past her, at the next person offering condolences, and Chloé was being ushered away. She kept watching her friend from a distance, though, keeping an eye on him. Watching for that secret look that, if Adrien’s mother was to be believed, all people who’d lost their mothers could recognize in each other.

Two hours in, however, and Adrien didn't look like he was going to snap at all. He didn’t look a bit different from how he’d looked at the start of the event. He was still polite, detached, subdued. It occurred to Chloé that, unlike Mrs. Agreste or herself, Adrien wasn’t really the type to shout something rude or scream if he was fed up. He didn’t even really let himself get fed up in the first place, did he? But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use a break all the same.

_They ought to put a time limit on these things, you know? For the kids, at least._

Before Adrien knew what was happening, Chloé had come up behind him, grabbed his hand, and started to pull him towards the door. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get out of here.”

Chloé wasn’t as good as Adrien’s mother had been, at sneaking around, but she managed to find an unused side room a few doors down from where the wake was being held. She snuck in quickly, pulling Adrien after her.

“Why’d you do that?” Adrien asked, once the door was closed.

Chloé shrugged. “You can go back if you want,” she said. After a moment, Adrien shook his head.

“No, I’d rather be here I guess,” he said. “Anyway, it’s not like anybody will notice I’m missing.” He sat down on one of the few folding chairs propped up in the room, and Chloé sat down on the one next to him. “Thanks.”

Chloé nodded, and they sat in silence for a few minutes before Chloé worked up the nerve to ask the question that had been plaguing her since she’d first heard there’d be a service. “Did you… did you guys hear something? Is that why you’re having a memorial now?”

Adrien shook his head. “No, still nothing. And it’ll be years before she’s legally…” Adrien couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Oh.” Chloé paused. “Why now?”

“Nathalie yelled at my father,” Adrien replied. Chloé’s eyes widened.

“She _did_?”

Adrien nodded. “I was eavesdropping. Nathalie told him he had to find a way to move on, to rejoin the living, that Mom would’ve hated what he’d become.”

For a moment, Chloé was speechless. “Did he fire her?”

“No. He didn’t say anything. And then a day later, he told her to plan this.” Adrien paused. “I don’t think it’ll help, though. Memorial services don’t help you move on if you don’t think the person they’re for is really dead. Anyway, he doesn’t want to move on even if she is dead.”

“Do you?”

Adrien considered the question. “Not exactly,” he said. “I don’t think she’s dead, either. But… I don’t want to keep living like this until she comes back. I want some kind of life before then, something that doesn’t just revolve around her disappearance.” Adrien sighed. “It'd be easier if I could just get out of the house for once,” he said quietly. “She's everywhere in there, you know?” Chloé nodded. “I wish I could go to school like you,” he added, a touch of jealousy in his voice.

Chloé rolled her eyes. “If you want to do something, you should just do it,” she said. “You let your dad get away with _way_ too much, you know that?”

“I can't just _go_ to _school_ , Chloé, it doesn't work like that.”

“Why not?” Chloé asked. “Look, the next school year starts in a couple of months. I'll tell them you're coming, and you just do whatever you need to do to be there on the first day.”

Adrien paled. “I couldn't, my father-”

“-isn't going to pull you out once you _start_ going, is he? It would be too embarrassing.”

“I don't think my father gets embarrassed as easily as yours does,” Adrien said. “He just does what he wants, and makes sure everyone else does what he wants, too. I've never seen him care about anybody else’s opinion. Not since Mom…” Adrien trailed off.

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” Chloé said. Adrien didn't say anything back. “It's what your mom would have done if _she_ wanted to go to school,” Chloé added impulsively.

Adrien laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is,” he agreed. He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I'll try.”

 

* * *

 

When Chloé was sixteen, she began to wonder if Adrien coming to school would ever work out exactly the way she’d imagined it would. An entire school year had come and gone. It had clearly worked wonders for Adrien, and Chloé was happy about that, of course. But she hadn’t anticipated that Adrien making new friends might affect the friendship she had with him. If anything, she’d thought having Adrien around might boost her own popularity, the way it had when she was twelve. And she’d thought that being together with him in public, around other people, might have been what was missing before. But instead…

Oh, well. It was a new school year now, an opportunity for a fresh start. Chloé would get things back on track.

Not that Chloé would be able to start right away, since Adrien was out for the first week.

“Hey Nino,” Kim said, leaning over the desks before class officially began, “where’s Adrien?”

“He's on a family trip,” Chloé said quickly and matter-of-factly, before Nino had a chance to respond. “He told me all about it. He’ll be back next week.” She sighed dramatically. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through the week without him, though, I already miss him so much.”

“Oh.” Kim rolled his eyes, then looked around the classroom. “Is Marinette with him?”

“ _Marinette_?” Chloé repeated incredulously. “Ha! As if! Why would Adrien go anywhere with Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Marinette,” Alya cut in defensively, “won a _design competition_ , because unlike _some_ people, she actually has _talent_. She’s shadowing a professional in Milan for the week.” Chloé rolled her eyes as the rest of the class started asking Alya more questions about Marinette’s trip to Italy, like it wasn’t the most boring thing imaginable. It was mind-boggling; Marinette wasn’t even _there_ , and yet somehow everything was all about her, as usual. Unbelievable.

Chloé was watching television in her room late that evening when her phone suddenly vibrated with a text alert. She ignored it at first, figuring whatever it was could wait until a commercial, but then it buzzed again, and again, and again. It suddenly occurred to Chloé that she must have been included on a group text, something that basically never happened. Curiosity piqued, Chloé leaned over and grabbed her phone off the table. She had to scroll up, past a lot of generic exclamations from her various classmates, before getting to the original text from Césaire, a link to some press release that had just come out.

On any other night Chloé probably would have ignored it, but whatever else you could say about Césaire, she was good for the latest information about Ladybug. Chloé, like the rest of Paris, was starting to grow anxious for such news, as neither the hero nor her partner had been seen in almost a week now.

Sure enough, the press release was all about Ladybug and Chat Noir. They were overseas in America, of all places, on some top-secret rescue mission. Chloé rolled her eyes to herself as she continued to skim the opening paragraph. “Doesn’t America have enough superheroes without stealing ours?” she muttered under her breath.

And then she got to the name of the person they’d rescued.

_Adele Agreste. Missing wife of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, presumed dead, found alive and rescued by Paris’ own superhero duo._

Chloé's phone slipped out of her hand and crashed to the floor, the screen instantly erupting with a million tiny cracks.


	2. Found

The next day before class started, all anybody could talk about was the news about Mrs. Agreste.

“… talked to my boy last night,” Nino was telling the entire class, “which was, like, noon there, I guess? Anyway, they’ll all be back in a couple of days. He said the FBI got in touch with his dad last week or something, but they weren’t allowed to tell anyone else or it would have compromised the operation.” Nino grinned. “Adrien said it just like that, ‘compromised the operation’, it sounded so badass.”

“Fascinating,” Max said. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he turned to Chloé, who had been ignoring everyone else since she’d arrived. “Chloé, did _you_ know?” he asked her. “That that's what the purpose of Adrien’s family trip really was?”

 _Of course I knew, Adrikins tells me everything._ For some reason, Chloé couldn't bring herself to say it. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“Hmm. Then I suppose you don't have any insight as to what was really going on.”

“What?” Chloé frowned, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Max raised an eyebrow at her, the way he always did when he thought she was being dense. “You must have noticed that the official version of events is a bit lacking,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Why would an evil organization hold a wealthy woman like Adele Agreste hostage for four years without making any kind of ransom demands? It doesn't add up. Some people are already speculating, saying that she must have been a spy. Infiltrating them, joining them willingly four years ago in order to-”

“Don't talk about Adrien’s mother like that, you four-eyed freak!” Chloé shouted angrily at him. Instantly, the entire class came rushing to Max’s defense. About five different people started yelling at Chloé, and Kim actually stepped in front of his friend protectively while glaring, although Max did not seem particularly upset. He adjusted his glasses and looked at Chloé calmly.

“I only meant-”

“She wouldn't _do_ that! She wouldn't leave-” _me, she wouldn't have left me, not after my mother left me_ , “-Adrien!”

“Okay, everyone settle down!” Alya yelled, and instantly the whole class quieted. “I can't believe I'm saying this,” she continued at a normal volume, “but Chloé has a point. Max isn't wrong, and everyone who knows me knows I'm dying to know what's really going on, but Adrien is our friend, and this is going to be really emotional for him. He needs our support right now. And he needs our help getting everything back to normal as quickly as possible. That means no speculating or spreading rumors, no matter how flimsy the official story is. We just accept whatever he chooses to tell us, we’re there for him if he needs us, and that's it.” Alya looked at Chloé pointedly. “I'm sure that's all Chloé was trying to say. Right?”

Chloé scoffed. “Well, obviously,” she said, annoyed.

Max nodded. “You're right,” he agreed. “Being Adrien’s friend is all that's important right now. I apologize.” Everyone looked at Chloé, wondering if she'd apologize back, but she simply took her seat without another word.

 

* * *

 

Chloé insisted on being at the airport to greet Mrs. Agreste when she returned. Luckily, her father didn't take much persuading. The woman’s miraculous rescue-resurrection, practically-was all anybody could talk about in Paris, and the mayor did not object in the least to being photographed greeting her before anyone else.

She looked different from how Chloé remembered her. Older, smaller. Sadder. Chloé didn’t know how much of that was what the poor woman had been through and how much of it was just Chloé’s memory fading, slowly betraying her, replacing a human woman with a lost ideal.

She seemed happy to see Chloé, at least.

It was over far too quickly, their reunion. Chloé couldn’t blame the Agrestes for wanting to keep things short and hurry home, after four years, but the second Mrs. Agreste was out of sight Chloé found herself doubting the woman was really back at all. She kept pulling up the news articles on her phone over the next few days, the next few weeks, compulsively, reassuring herself that she hadn’t simply dreamt the whole thing.

A little over a month later, Chloé finally worked up the nerve to visit the Agreste Manor and see Mrs. Agreste again in person.

“Chloé, what a lovely surprise!” Mrs. Agreste exclaimed, hugging the girl warmly after quickly ushering her inside the mansion. “What brings you over? I’m afraid you just missed Adrien, he’s gone out with a few friends, but I’m sure I could call him if you want to catch up with-”

“No,” Chloé interrupted quickly, “I came to see you.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Agreste put a hand to her chest. “That’s very thoughtful, dear, thank you.”

“How are you?”

“I'm-” Mrs. Agreste stopped talking abruptly, and actually seemed to be thinking hard about how to answer the question. “I'm better,” she finally said. “Everyone’s been very supportive. But it’s still, you know, a process. Adjusting.”

Chloé nodded. “Well… let me know if I can help with anything like that, I guess,” she said. Mrs. Agreste nodded, then tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

“Actually,” she said slowly, “you… would you be interested in watching a movie?”

Chloé blinked. “A movie?”

“Oh, I completely understand if you have better things to do than hang out with a friend’s mom on a Saturday afternoon,” Mrs. Agreste said quickly, “but, well, I was planning on catching up on some of the pop culture I’ve missed, and it’s more fun if you’re watching that stuff with someone else. And Adrien and Gabriel, well, they’re perfectly happy to join me, but they’re not really as interested, say, the romantic films. I’d love to watch something with another girl for once. We could watch whatever your favorite movie is from the past four years? If you’re not busy, that is.”

“Oh. I see. Well,” Chloé shrugged, “I did have plans, of course I did, but… I mean, I could move them around. I’d love to watch a movie with you.”

Mrs. Agreste smiled warmly. “Thank you, Chloé, I really appreciate that.” Chloé followed Mrs. Agreste down the hall and into a room she'd been in dozens of times before, although before it was always with Adrien, when they were younger. It was a small room with a giant TV screen that took up an entire wall-basically a home theater. As they entered Chloé shut the door behind herself without thinking, and immediately Mrs. Agreste froze.

“Could you…” her voice was perfectly casual, perfectly controlled, but her face had gone pale, “Would you mind leaving the door open, dear? I just-I don't-I’d feel better if we weren't closed in, that's all.”

Max was an idiot, Chloé decided immediately, and so was anybody else who thought there had been anything voluntary about the last four years of Mrs. Agreste’s life. “Yeah, sure, no problem,” Chloé said, quickly opening the door again. She joined Mrs. Agreste on the couch and watched as the woman pressed a few buttons on various remotes, before frowning and handing them to Chloé.

“Here,” she said, “you figure it out. I still can’t get the hang of all this streaming stuff.”

Chloé scoffed as she took the remotes and began flipping through the movie options. “Don’t worry, I don’t know any adults who can figure it out,” she said derisively, and Mrs. Agreste smiled.

“Well, that makes me feel better,” she said. She leaned back into the couch cushions as Chloé selected one of her favorites, a period romance that had come out a couple of years ago, and the movie began.

 

* * *

 

“What was being rescued by Ladybug like?” Chloé asked abruptly, during one of the more boring parts of the movie. “I mean, I’ve been rescued by her before, but not like _you_ were. It sounded,” Chloé just stopped herself from saying ‘romantic’, why had that been the first word that came to mind, “amazing.”

Mrs. Agreste glanced at Chloé, then leaned over. “You want to know a secret?” she asked, and Chloé nodded eagerly. “I didn’t make a very good first impression.” Mrs. Agreste paused. “In fact, Ladybug said I was the most annoying person she’d ever met in her life.”

Chloé’s jaw dropped. “She did _not_!”

“She did.” Mrs. Agreste laughed a little at Chloé’s stunned expression. “Oh, I deserved it,” she added. “I didn’t know who she was at first, or that she was there to rescue me, and I was… frustrated, I guess. Lashing out.” She dropped her gaze, started fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “I might not be a very nice person anymore, after everything,” she said softly. Before Chloé could respond, Mrs. Agreste shook her head and smiled. “Anyway, Ladybug still rescued me,” she joked, “so I guess it couldn’t have been _that_ bad.”

Chloé nodded. “Ladybug… I mean, she's perfect,” Chloé said quickly, “but sometimes she can be a little judgemental. But she’s quick to forgive, too. I bet she’s already over it.”

“You're probably right.” Mrs. Agreste turned back to the movie.

“I get rescued by her a lot,” Chloé added in a rush, “so I would know. She's not like anyone else in the world.”

Mrs. Agreste considered this, then picked up the remote and paused the movie. “I used to get rescued by this superhero a lot too, when I was only a few years older than you are,” she said. “His name was Paon. Ever heard of him?” Chloé shook her head. “Well, I'm not surprised, he was before your time. He probably wasn't as impressive as Ladybug either, if I'm being honest. But I thought he was…” Mrs. Agreste sighed dreamily as she trailed off.

“Really?”

“Mm hmm. You know, it's pretty easy to fall in love with a mask.”

Chloé’s cheeks went pink. “I'm not-”

“It feels safer,” Mrs. Agreste went on, ignoring Chloé’s half-hearted protest. “Less risky. And they always seem so much better than people from real life, don't they? But don't worry.” Mrs. Agreste patted Chloé’s shoulder. “I'm sure one day you'll find a girl in the real world who makes you feel the way Ladybug does.” Mrs. Agreste picked up the remote again and restarted the movie without waiting for Chloé to respond. They watched the rest in silence, which Chloé appreciated because it took her about that long to process the conversation that had just occurred, at least enough so that she could start forming coherent sentences again.

After the movie was over, Mrs. Agreste walked Chloé out, thanking her profusely the entire way and hugging her as they reached the door. “Please, feel free to stop by again anytime,” she said. “You’re always welcome here.”

Chloé nodded, hugging her back. “Mrs. Agreste?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, dear, what is it?”

“Did, um,” Chloé wasn’t exactly sure how to phrase what she wanted to know, “when Adrien and I first became friends, when we were little, were you or Mr. Agreste hoping that one day we’d be… more?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Agreste sighed, “yes, I suppose so. I always… well, a long time ago, before Adrien was born, I always imagined Gabriel and I having several children. Two or three, at least. But, well, things didn’t work out like that. I guess I hoped you’d be the sister he never got to have.”

“Oh. Right. Well, um, there’s probably other movies you need to see, so maybe I’ll stop by again next weekend?”

Mrs. Agreste grinned. “I would love that,” she said.

As the door to the mansion closed firmly behind Chloé she let out a long, heavy breath. She walked slowly to the sidewalk, then took a few steps towards her father’s hotel before abruptly turning around and heading in the opposite direction. Chloé had a lot to think about all of a sudden, and she thought walking the long way might help.

 

* * *

 

The next school day, before class began, Chloé entered the classroom and immediately marched over to Adrien and Nino’s shared desk, where the two boys were currently engaged in some discussion about whatever they’d been up to on Saturday.

“Adrien,” Chloé said, standing herself right in front of him, “we need to talk.”

“Hmm?” Adrien looked up from his conversation. “Oh, sure Chloé, what’s-”

“We have to break up.”

Instantly, the entire class went silent, all eyes in the room on the two of them. Adrien blinked. “Chloé,” he said slowly, “you know that… that we’re not… we’re not actually-”

“Look,” Chloé interrupted, “I know this must be really hard for you to hear.” She leaned forward and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But I think if you’re as honest with yourself as I’ve had to be with myself lately, you’ll realize that this just isn’t working.”

“Um-” Adrien shot a helpless glance towards Nino, who shrugged uselessly.

“And it’s not you, I promise,” Chloé continued emphatically. “You’re great. You’re the perfect guy, you really are. It’s just, well, I’ve recently realized that guys aren’t for me.”

“Oh… _oh_! Oh, I see,” Adrien said awkwardly. “Um. Okay, that’s, uh… good for you, Chloé, really, I’m happy that you-”

“Oh, Adrikins,” Chloé said, putting her other hand to her heart and sighing, “I really appreciate you putting on such a brave face in order to be supportive, but you don’t have to pretend with me. It’s okay to be devastated. I know _I_ would be, if I were breaking up with me. Just let me know when you’ve healed, okay? Because I really, truly do value our friendship and I would hate it if my coming out got in the way of that.”

“Oh, no, Chloé,” Adrien said quickly, “we’ll always be friends, I promise.”

Chloé let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God,” she said happily. “That means so much to me, it really does.” Chloé patted Adrien’s shoulder. “I’ll give you some space for now, though, until the wound isn’t quite so fresh.” Without another word, and totally oblivious of either the blush that was creeping up Adrien’s neck or the death glare that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was currently shooting at her, Chloé crossed the room and sat down at her desk.

The second she pulled out her phone, the entire classroom erupted in low whispers. Behind her, Alix leaned over. “So, Chloé,” she said, “is there, like, a specific girl in the class or something that you-”

“Ha! As if! You wish, Kubdel,” Chloé said scornfully. Alix rolled her eyes, annoyed, and Chloé was pretty sure she heard Césaire mutter something about how the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Chloé pointedly ignored this. “My father is hosting a gala next week for fifty of the most important foreign dignitaries in Europe and their families. Diplomats, ministers, _dukes_. I’m sure one of them has a daughter I can date. My first girlfriend can’t just be _anybody_.”

Before anybody could respond to this, the teacher entered the classroom and began the lesson for the day. Chloé grinned to herself, finding it impossible to focus. That had gone so _well_! And now that she was officially single, and had figured out what it was she actually wanted, the possibilities were limitless. Chloé had been more right than she’d realized, the first day of school. It was a new year, a fresh start, and it was going to be amazing.


End file.
